


I Will Survive

by Eilowyn



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Because Felicity Smoak is stronger than moping, Don't worry I love Oliver but I'm mad at him right now, Felicity empowerment, Felicity/Oliver except for the fact that he's being a tool, Gen, Post 3x01, Sara didn't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilowyn/pseuds/Eilowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon divergence, 3x01: Sara didn’t come back to Starling just to die <s>and further Laurel’s story, even though the comic book fanboys are the only ones who care about it</s>. She had a better reason to be in town. One that involved ice cream, Gloria Gaynor, and lots of vodka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Survive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaDemonessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/gifts).



> This came from my desire to see something other than the angsty post 3x01 Felicity fic. She was strong enough to walk away, and to me that’s something to celebrate instead of mope about. We’re going to get enough Olicity angst in season 3 already, so I wanted to stop for a minute to empower Felicity after Oliver’s jackass move to kiss her while saying they couldn’t be together. I mean, who does that? The girl needed it, and I needed to get it out.
> 
> For Lademonessa, who has helped me get through graduate school apps by entertaining me with snark, fic, and helping to conceive really complicated AUs that resemble Greek tragedies, but without the Oedipal complexes. She's also amazing for stopping me from picking fights with ignorant comic book fanboys who insist on a Canary/Arrow ending because they haven't realized we're living in an age of postmodernism.

It should have been strange, the fact that the first person she called after Oliver's double negative "don't make me say I don't love you" line was Oliver's ex-girlfriend. For Felicity, however, a burgeoning friendship with Sara Lance had turned into something deep and close through untraceable phone calls and encrypted emails. Felicity hadn't intended on starting a correspondence after Sara left with Nyssa al Ghul, but she wanted to keep the Canary informed of her father's health, the search for Thea, and the rebuilding of Starling City.

It was their mutual feeling of inadequacy that brought the two women together. Felicity began making self-deprecating comments about Laurel's invasion of the new lair, now that she was in on the Arrow secret. She would talk about Laurel and Oliver and their constant “business meetings” and appearances at society functions, all with the hope of finding investors willing to back Oliver's bid to regain control of Queen Consolidated. At least that’s what Oliver was doing. Laurel, however, might have had ulterior motives, ones that Roy told Felicity revolved around “macking on your man.” Felicity knew things would change with Laurel on the team, but she wasn’t ready for the dismissive way the other woman took over efforts to regain Queen Consolidated, ignoring anyone else’s possible contribution to the cause.

When the summer of schmoozing for investors began, Digg had suggested Felicity accompany Oliver to the galas and charity events necessary for rubbing elbows with Starling City's elite. After all, she knew about the running of Queen Consolidated inside and out from her days as Oliver's EA, and she pretty much was the life vest that kept him afloat in the corporate world. Their first foray in public wasn't so bad. Felicity could handle the catty comments about her status as Oliver's assistant and snide remarks about how she earned her job. At least she looked like she was handling it, smiling to hide annoyance and hurt. It was difficult for her, but that particular evening included fixing a city councilman’s dead smartphone, earning his support and admiration.

The next event didn't go as well. She kept on anxiously babbling off-topic while trying to explain that Queen Consolidated was a good investment, and there wasn't anyone with a broken phone for her to impress with her charm and technical skills. Instead, nerves got the best of her, and she knew her inappropriate rambles weren't doing Oliver any favors. He didn't blame her at all for the night’s lack of success, but Laurel found Felicity to be a weak link, and decided she would accompany both Oliver and Felicity to the next charity ball.

Laurel, gorgeous Laurel, of course looked beautiful, and held herself with an elegant poise, perfectly integrating herself into society conversations. Oliver and Laurel would discussed business and Felicity would awkwardly stand there, shifting her weight from foot to foot and trying to find the courage to make a prepared comment that wouldn’t end with her counting to three. During the conversations Laurel began moving closer to Oliver’s side and putting a proprietary hand on his arm, and Felicity decided to excuse herself to and go to the bar, where she sullenly drank three glasses of red wine in quick succession. Councilman Whitmore and his wife joined her for a few minutes, and they genuinely seemed happy to see her. Councilman Whitmore, who insisted she call him Larry, thanked her again for saving his phone. His wife smiled and asked Felicity for her thoughts on a suitable laptop for their college-bound son, and she was happy to recommend a model light enough to be carried in a backpack but powerful enough to fulfill all the tasks of a student. For the first time that night Felicity felt at ease, in her element. However, she wasn’t aware of how her entire demeanor changed while talking computers. She was bright, sunny Felicity for a little while, and she felt eternally grateful for the presence of the Whitmores. She didn’t notice that Oliver couldn’t keep his eyes off her while she animatedly discussed processors and hard drive size, but the Whitmores were obviously enchanted. Her connection with them kept the night from being a total loss. The glow and sparkle ended as they took their leave of her, and the awkward, nervous computer geek came back.

She spent the rest of the evening chatting with the friendly bartender and watching Laurel and Oliver flit about the room like the social butterflies they were. They looked amazing together, the perfect power couple out to take on the business world. By the looks on the faces of the Queen Consolidated board members they spoke to, the two made a good impression, and their night ended in success. They occasionally stepped out onto the dance floor, moving gracefully together like a synchronized ballet, earning admiring looks from many observers. Felicity smiled sadly; Laurel was far better at this than she was, and it was just a reality that she didn't fit in. Oliver frequently glanced her way during the night, giving Laurel a tight smile when she got a little too touchy. Felicity didn’t know this; all she knew was that he ended up staying with Laurel the entire night in an effort to create a united front for investors.

  
\---  
  


After she got home, Felicity sent Sara an email asking if she ever felt like she wasn't good enough.

 _All the time_ , Sara wrote. _Before the island I was Detective Lance's bisexual, wild child daughter, who could never quite live up to the standards set by the Great and Wonderful Laurel._

Sara explained that Laurel was always the perfect one, so instead of trying to emulate her, she rebelled as her way to get their parents’ attention.

_Laurel was the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect citizen, the perfect lawyer, the one destined to become Mrs. Queen and wield the power of that name in a way even Moira would approve of. I was the one there when Ollie misbehaved, when he got wasted, when he got high, when the cops would come and crash our parties. She kept up appearances and covered for him, making excuses for his behavior and trying to prevent Ollie from making disastrous choices. She forgave him every time he messed up, finding it better to be Oliver Queen’s girlfriend than Oliver Queen's ex. Both society and the Queens loved her, and if Moira and Robert ever gave me any thought, it was just as a bad influence on their darling prince._

  
\---  
  


When it was decided that it was best for both the company and the team to have Laurel attend these events on Oliver’s arm, leaving Felicity back at the lair, the first person she called was Sara, using the number of a burner phone the Canary gave her in case of emergencies.

Luckily, Sara considered Felicity's breaking heart an emergency.

 _"Hey, Cutie,"_ Sara answered, recognizing the number. _"What's up?"_

Felicity sniffled. _"You know the whole inadequacy thing with Laurel we've been talking about? Well, I think that I'm being pushed out of Team Arrow and, um, Oliver's life, and she’s taking over. It's just that Laurel is so much better at everything. She glides through these events like a swan, while I drown like an ugly duckling, talking about hard drives and tech and making comments about Oliver's business acumen that sound more like I'm rating him in bed. Not that I'm rating him in bed or anything, I mean, I don't exactly have any experience or criteria to use in any rating system, and I'm going to shut up in three... two... one...."_

Sara laughed. _“Oh, Honey! You gotta know he’s crazy about you!”_

Felicity made an inelegant snort.

 _"Think of it this way,”_ Sara continued. _“Laurel is pretty much Oliver’s beard.”_

Felicity was confused. “ _How can she be his beard? He’s not gay, is he? I mean, I know he and Tommy were close, but--”_

Sara’s snickers rang loudly over the phone. _“You are so adorable! The thing is, Laurel’s his society girlfriend, covering up the fact that he’d rather be hanging out with a geeky IT girl at the new lair.”_

Felicity scrunched her nose. “ _You make it sound like I’m his mistress or something. His tech mistress, because I’m not exactly doing anything else mistress-y with him. Not that I would mind doing mistress-y stuff with Oliver, but… um, it just isn’t happening. He doesn’t see me like that.”_

_“Felicity, he only smiles when you’re around. Believe me, I noticed.”_

Felicity gave a worried gasp. “ _But-- I didn’t want-- when you were together, I--”_

_“Sweetie, it’s okay. I kind of went in there with blinders off, knowing you were the most important woman in Ollie’s life.”_

_“Yeah. I’m his tech mistress.”_ Felicity reminded her, sounding grumpy.

Again, Sara laughed. _“I love you, you know that?"_

Felicity mumbled an affirmative and returned the sentiment. Sara decided to use another tactic to cheer her up.

_“Want to know a secret?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“In high school Laurel almost flunked her senior computer technology class. She could barely turn the thing on without doing something wrong, and it was like Bill Gates had it out to get her. She ended up making the president of the computer club help her, but he once told me it was kind of a demand instead of asking politely. She could be scary!”_

_“You’re making that up just to make me feel better.”_ Even though she didn’t believe Sara, Felicity did appreciate her efforts.

_“You can check it out! Look up her transcripts at Starling Academy. She got a C- in the class. She threw a fit when it ruined her GPA and she lost the valedictorian spot to Susie Marquez!”_

_“Don’t think I won’t hack into the school files!”_ Felicity promised, thinking things were looking up.

_“Honey, don’t ever think you’re inadequate. You’re brilliant, you’re beautiful, and best of all you are sweet and kind and compassionate. Believe me. Oliver’s little world of Team Arrow and Queen Consolidated would fall like a house of cards if you weren’t there!”_

After saying goodbye, Felicity spent the rest of the night smiling and watching Disney movies, eating mint chip ice cream to celebrate her strengths rather than consoling herself about her weaknesses.

  
\---  
  


When Oliver did ask her to dinner, Sara was the first person she called.

 _“That’s amazing! I am so happy!”_ Sara said, completely genuine in her excitement.

Through the phone Felicity heard a different voice in the background, shouting something before laughing. Sara snorted before telling the person she’d relay the message to Felicity.

_“Nyssa’s really happy for you too!”_

Felicity scoffed. It was difficult to imagine the master assassin caring about whether or not Felicity Smoak had a date.

 _“Nyssa al Ghul, Daughter of the Demon, cares about my love life?”_ Her voice dripped with incredulity.

_“She likes you! You held your ground, and not a lot of people do that.”_

The voice in the background said something again, speaking longer this time. The words were once more muffled and followed by Sara agreeing to tell Felicity.

_“Nyssa says you should wear pink. You look good in pink, it's a signature color for you. And keep your hair down. She says you have beautiful hair and should show it more often."_

Felicity spent the rest of the conversation chatting merrily about the date while trying to comprehend the fact that Nyssa al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, was actually giving her fashion advice.

  
\---  
  


When the date ended in disaster, Felicity sent a quick email to Sara.

_Date ruined. Explosion interrupted second course. Things are not good._

 

\---

 

Sara didn’t get a chance to reply before the burner phone was ringing with Felicity’s number.

 _“Hey Sweetie!”_ Sara answered, wanting to know how bad things were without causing Felicity more worry. _“What’s up?”_

Felicity sniffled. _“Lyla had the baby. It’s a girl.”_ Even though it was obvious she was crying, there was a faint smile to her voice. She was putting on the face of the Brave Little Toaster, trying to reassure both Sara and herself that she was okay.

 _“That’s wonderful!”_ Sara cheered, though her voice had a cautious edge to it, preparing for the bad news.

 _“Yeah. Well. Oliver cornered me in the hospital.” F_ elicity took several deep breaths, trying to stop the oncoming sobs before they started.

_“Felicity, what happened?”_

_“He kissed me. He told me we couldn’t be together, and he kissed me.”_

_“What?”_

_“I told him to decide whether or not it was totally over, because I’m sick of ‘maybes’ and ‘somedays.’ He asked me to not ask him if he didn’t love me. Or something like that. It was kind of confusing.”_

_“Oh, Cutie! So what did you do?”_

_“I… I walked away.”_ Her voice was small, but firm.

 _“So it’s over?”_ Sara almost cooed in sympathy.

 _“I guess.”_ Felicity paused for a moment. _“I mean, how can something be over if you were never under him…I mean, never with him?”_

 _“Hold on,”_ Sara said, and Felicity heard Sara conversing with someone in the background, though as usual their voices were so muffed she couldn’t make out the words.

 _“Honey, I’m coming to you.”_ Sara told Felicity. _“I’m two hours away in Coast City, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_

_“What about Nyssa?”_

_“She likes you, remember? And she’s perfectly capable of taking out a guy who screwed over a mafia boss by herself.”_ Felicity tried to ignore the images Sara’s words brought up. For some reason she was picturing Ray Liotta as the guy Nyssa was hired to kill.

_“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”_

_“Bye, Sweetie! I’ll break a couple traffic laws and get there as soon as possible!”_

  
\---  
  


Felicity tried to smile.

When she broke up with Elliott Ferguson her junior year at MIT, she didn’t really have any girlfriends to talk to. The Information Technology department was filled with guys who fit Weird Al’s “white and nerdy” stereotype, and she remained the only girl in her cohort. Her roommate was never there because she spent all her hours in the engineering lab--Felicity suspected she even had a bed there--so there was no one to hold her and console her and tell her men are pigs and that there are plenty more fish in the sea.

Having Sara come was a new experience. A good experience. She really didn’t want to call Diggle, who was probably too busy bonding with his daughter. She would have hated to take him away from that, recalling something she read in a science magazine about the importance of parental contact during the first days after birth. There was Roy, and she knew he’d come over if she asked, but they would end up having a Michael Bay marathon, not talking, eating Cheetos,  and watching shit get blown up for hours. It was a ritual they began when he was moping over Thea, and Felicity believed eating Cheetos and watching shit get blown up was cathartic for him. That Sara volunteered to drop everything and come to her – especially because ‘everything’ included a mob hit – meant a lot to Felicity, and for the first time since she left that hospital she didn’t feel alone.

  
\---  
  


An hour and a half after Felicity had ended her call to Sara, the other woman knocked on her door.

“Hey Honey!” Sara said, embracing Felicity as soon as the door opened. “I come baring gifts!”

Sara familiarly walked into Felicity’s kitchen without a comment on the broken-hearted woman’s attire: faded MIT shirt, blue pajama pants covered with cartoon drawings of Grumpy Cat, and a blanket knit with the image of Van Gogh’s Exploding TARDIS wrapped around her shoulders.

Felicity followed her and watched as Sara put a leather backpack on the counter. She proceeded to pull out three bottles of vodka, a gallon-sized tub of ice cream, and an iPod. It was a new model, and Felicity wondered how nomad assassins managed to make it to an Apple store for electronic purchases. “You have some player around here, don’t you?” Sara held the device in her hand and looked around.

“In the living room,” Felicity answered, leading her to the stereo system set in a wall cabinet, complete with iPod dock.

“This is the official Sara Lance Break-Up Survival Kit,” Sara said. “Now, do you want the empowering ‘Fuck You I’m Awesome’ mix or the wallowing ‘Leave Me Alone to Embrace My Pain’ mix?”

While Felicity decided, Sara ran back to the kitchen and grabbed two of the vodka bottles, a pair of shot glasses declaring loyalty to House Targaryian, the tub of ice cream and two spoons. She left her booty on the coffee table, settling on the couch and patting the seat next to her in invitation.

“Part of the Survival Kit is mandatory cuddling,” she ordered. Felicity found Sara strange perkiness to have a calming effect. Rather than jarring, her’s cheer made Felicity feel settled and more relaxed in her skin, even though she was still carrying around a box of Kleenex and reaching for a tissue three times a minute. It was nice to not be the ray of sunshine in everyone else’s life for once.

Felicity joined Sara on the couch, resting her head on the other woman’s shoulder. Sara was dressed in a leather jacket – not the one she usually wore, but something powder blue with fringe along the sleeve. It was kind of _Sons of Anarchy_ meets 80’s new wave, something so bold that it could only be worn by a badass like Sara. Felicity found the leather to be a surprisingly comfortable pillow, and Sara drew her into a hug.

“Did you decide? ‘Fuck You’ or ‘Embrace My Pain?’”

Felicity blew her nose. “I don’t think I should do any more wallowing. Let’s go with ‘Fuck You I’m Awesome.’”

Sara used the iPod remote to begin the playlist. “Good choice. ‘Embrace My Pain’ has a lot of Adele, and she always makes me a sobbing mess. And you can only handle so much Bonnie Tyler in one sitting.” The opening chords of Pink’s “So What” began pouring through Felicity’s state-of-the-art sound system, something she mixed and balanced herself with software commonly used in professional recording studios. The mocking voice of the singer repeated the words “na na” to the melody of a schoolyard taunt. It gave way to the song’s lyrics, telling the story of the musician’s 2008 separation from motocross star Carey Hart. Pink boldly declared she was having more fun post break-up, drinking and starting fights, all because she was still a rock star and the object of the song was a tool. Felicity decided it was an appropriate word for Oliver.

She gave a snort, and Sara turned her head to look at her.

“What?”

“Oliver’s a tool,” Felicit said. She still sounded as if she had been crying for hours, but the beginnings of a smile started forming on her face.

“Damn straight,” Sara agreed. “Always was. It is possible to be a hero and still be a total tool, and he proves it.” She reached for the bottle of vodka and the shot glasses, filling both of them with a double. “To Oliver Queen, the masked tool of Starling City!”

Felicity giggled at Sara’s toast and reached for the shot. They both drank after the count of three, and Felicity made a squished face like she tasted a sour lemon, complete with adorable gagging noise. Sara burst into a giggle fit upon seeing it.

Felicity returned her head to Sara’s shoulder as Pink gave way to Britney Spears. Felicity laughed when “Stronger” started playing, the syncopated 90’s dance beat complete with synthesizers and the teen queen’s nasally voice.

“You’re going old school!” she said, and Sara joined her in laughter.

“I was ten when this came out,” Sara began, “and I absolutely loved Britney. From the moment I heard “Baby, One More Time” I was hooked. I think she actually was my first girlcrush. Of course Laurel preferred Christina Aguilera, so that was one the things we always fought about during that time.” She paused as Felicity hummed in amusement. “She also was a Backstreet Boys fan, and I liked N’SYNC, but I got the last laugh because Justin Timberlake is still awesome.”

“Any man who can pull off ‘Dick in a Box’ is awesome,” Felicity agreed, and the two snickered.

Felicity sat up, reaching for the vodka bottle. Sara’s good mood was infectious, and she poured two more double shots to share. “To Britney and Justin,” she began, “Both wonderful musicians and icons of their time, but thank god they never spawned!”

Sara’s shoulders shook as she chuckled at Felicity’s toast. The two women grabbed the shot glasses and slammed them down. Felicity repeated her sour lemon face and gagging noise, causing Sara to continue laughing.

Britney sang about how her loneliness wasn’t killing her anymore, and Sara reached for the spoons and ice cream.

“I knew mint chip was your favorite,” she said, handing Felicity a spoon. They both scooped spoonfuls into their mouths, making happy noises as the cold, sweet treat hit their tongues.

After Britney ended, Nancy Sinatra began singing about her boots, and both Felicity and Sara hummed along. It was a familiar melody, and if they both knew it only from the Jessica Simpson _Dukes of Hazzard_ cover, they weren’t going to admit it.

 _“These boots are made for walking,”_ Sara began, singing along as the chorus started. _“That’s just what they’ll do.”_

Felicity joined for the last line, lowering her voice an octave for emphasis. It actually sounded more like Johnny Cash than Nancy Sinatra.

_“One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you!”_

They began laughing again as the second verse started, and Sara reached for the vodka again.

“My turn!” she declared, pouring another two shots. “This one seems particularly appropriate today," she began. "Here’s to John Diggle. Father, teddy bear, and the guy who gets to kick Ollie’s ass!”

Felicity toasted, though her smile dimmed a little as she remembered those early days of Team Arrow, when it was just the three of them. John and Oliver would spar while she tapped away on her keyboard, and no matter how dangerous the job got, the excitement and chance to do good carried her through. Sara saw Felicity’s face fall. She decided to fling a spoonful of ice cream at her, and soon both were engaged in a food fight filled with snarky taunts and infectious giggles. The couch didn't stand a chance.

  
\---  
  


The evening continued as it had began, with a different toast for each song on the playlist. After Felicity explained how Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” was actually about Warren Beatty, Sara toasted “To Oliver Queen, the guy would spend more time on his hair than I did, even though he looked like a terrible impression of Kurt Cobain!” Felicity snorted and giggled at that one. She’d seen pictures. He looked like a total grunge wannabe, and she knew the guy had never been to Seattle.

Felicity toasted Sara, resident HBIC,  “with the ability to make even me kick a little ass,” as Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter” played. Sara tried toasting Felicity during Beyoncé’s “Irreplaceable,” but ended up laughing at the mental image of Felicity putting the green leather Arrow costume and Oliver’s bow and quiver in a box to the left. After telling Felicity about her vision of Oliver being kicked out of the lair for being a tool, both Sara and Felicity chugged from the bottles in celebration.

Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know” made both women angry, and a toast was postponed in favor of singing along with their ice cream spoons as microphones, making violent hand gestures in response to the song’s intensity. Alanis made them pissed, and they reveled in their rage. They didn’t stop when a lamp was knocked over during the song’s bridge, so intent on their angry dancing that the crash was completely ignored. At the end, Sara toasted to Felicity’s honorary admission into the ‘Oliver Queen Ex-Girlfriends Club,’ and the two made snarky comments about illustrious alumni like Isabel Rochev and Helena Bertinelli. The two were given the code names Stalin Bitch and Psycho Bitch, both of which felt appropriate. Felicity felt a little bad about joking about Stalin Bitch now that she was dead, but her alcoholic haze kept her from dwelling on it too much.

“Survivor” also saw the two singing and dancing along with Destiny’s Child, though they were quite drunk at that point. Their dancing ended up resembling jumping on the couch more than any known dance moves, and they automatically had to segue into a conversation about Tom Cruise’s infamous couch jumping incident on Oprah. They thoroughly discussed the topic of Tom's failed marriage to Katie, using slurred words and a limited vocabulary. Sara boldly decided to give the ultimate toast, dedicated to "avoiding Oliver Queen’s dick." The mantra "Stay away from the Queen Peen" was used, and Sara was barely able to finish before giving in to her sputtering chuckles while Felicity began snorting crudely They spent the rest of the song in fits of laughter, unable to hear the lyrics over the sound of their giggling.

 

\---

 

The first notes of the last song on Sara’s playlist began, and they both calmed down out of veneration for the song’s illustrious status as the greatest break-up jam of all time. This was a serious moment, and they were able to stifle their giggles long enough to show proper respect.

“Now,” Sara slurred, “this is the one where shit gets real.”

The two women began swaying in each other’s arms, and while they still sang along, it was with a solemnity that matched the song’s gravity and significance in the breakup song canon.

 

_“First I was afraid, I was petrified_

_Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side_

_But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong_

_But I grew strong, I learned how to get along.”_

 

Their swaying became more pronounced as the song moved into the second verse, their singing emphasizing the song’s sentiment.

 

_“And so you’re back_

_From outer space_

_I just walked in to find you here_

_With that sad look upon your face_

_I should have changed that stupid lock_

_I should have made you leave your key_

_If I had known for just one second_

_You'd be back to bother me!”_

 

Hips began shaking in something that would resemble disco dancing if they weren’t so drunk, and voices began to rise in solidarity with the singer.

 

_“Go on now go, walk out the door_

_Just turn around now_

_'Cause you're not welcome anymore_

_Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye_

_Did you think I'd crumble_

_Did you think I'd lay down and die?”_

 

Their voices turned into shouts as the song crescendoed towards the chorus, and the hip-shaking swaying gave way to jumping around the living room. They managed to knock over the cabinet holding Felicity’s DVD collection, bump into the wall hard enough to make a few hanging pictures crooked, and tip one of the open vodka bottles over so it slowly began pouring alcohol onto the carpet.

 

_“Oh no not I, I will survive!_

_Oh, as long as I know how to love_

_I know I’ll stay alive_

_I’ve got all my life to live_

_And I’ve got all my love to give_

_And I’ll survive_

_I will survive_

_I will survive!”_

 

The ultimate empowering brake-up song ended the dance party, and both Felicity and Sara crashed on the couch, breathing heavily, drunk, and exhausted. They were a pile of arms and legs, cuddling each other like a litter of puppies. They were at a state of drunkenness where either deep, dark confessions came out or proper discourse ended, giving way to perpetual silliness.

“You know, if you ever want to be with a girl I’ll be here for you. Nyssa would probably be cool with that. We could do a threesome. It would be fun.”

To Felicity, Sara’s offer sounded like the kindest thing anyone had ever given her. It almost brought tears to her eyes, and solidified their dedication to each other.

“That’s so sweet!” she gushed, though her words were slurred. “I think my Katy Perry ‘I Kissed a Girl’ phase ended sophomore year, but if I ever decide to quit guys I’ll give you a call.”

“You know,” Sara said after briefly contemplating Felicity’s situation. “You could hack into the CIA database and mark Ollie as a terrorist. He kind of is, even if he’s a good guy. Maybe he’d go to Guantanamo Bay. Wait, are they still using Guantanamo bay?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity remembered something about it closing, but her news mostly came from the occasional episode of _The Daily Show_ watched in between her day and night jobs. She thought deeply for a moment, deciding against that plan of action. “If I did that I’d be an accessory, and so would Digg, and he’d go to jail and miss his daughter’s birthdays and ballet performances and preschool graduations and soccer games. Even though Oliver is a douchenozzle, I don’t think I want the CIA after him.” 

“Douchenozzle," Sara repeated, trying the word on her tongue. "I like that.” 

“It’s a good word.”

The two drifted off to sleep.

  
\---

 

When John Diggle came by the next morning to check on Felicity, he ended up using his key after no one responded to his heavy knocking. He had been worried when Oliver had confessed his actions against Felicity, and while he wanted to smack the other man in the head, he knew Oliver was too damn stubborn and in love with his manpain to change his mind. Digg came into the apartment slowly in case something was wrong, breathing in the heavy smell of alcohol that permeated the living room. After finding his two teammates sleeping on the couch amid empty vodka bottles, melting ice cream, a broken lamp, crooked pictures and the knocked over DVDs, he decided to quickly exit. Felicity would be okay. Sara would help her get over Oliver. They’d have terrible hangovers, but Felicity would survive.

  
\---

 

Two years later, Sara wasn’t exactly surprised when the invitation to the wedding of Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak arrived. She already knew that Oliver had manned up, and was pleased that he did it on his own instead of after getting his ass kicked by annoyed teammates sick of the sexual tension in the lair. She heard from her father that Laurel wasn’t pleased, but all Sara cared about was that Felicity could finally be with the Queen peen.

The squealing phone call following the proposal came first, and the “will you be my bridesmaid?” call came after, leaving both women in tears. There were few calls asking for planning advice as Thea became bridesmaidzilla and took over all of Felicity’s decisions. She had pouted when the bride insisted on a quiet, intimate wedding at the manor, but decided to make it the most extravagant, expensive wedding possible, even with those limiters. There was no stopping Felicity’s future sister-in-law, who tended to growl when anyone would offer a suggestion she didn’t like.

Sara took it upon herself to plan the bachelorette party, completely closing Verdant even though there were only a few attendees. Thea and Sara, as bridesmaids were present, along with Lyla and Nyssa. A reluctant Laurel ended up joining them, and though she was very careful to stay away from alcohol, she surprisingly wasn’t a buzzkill and joined in the celebrating. After an hour of plying the bride with drinks and dancing like crazy on a mostly empty dance floor, Sara left her position as official bartender and handed Felicity a box wrapped in pink with a black ribbon. There wasn’t a tag, and though Felicity knew it came from Sara, she had no idea what the package would contain. The paper was torn and the box opened, and Felicity smiled at what she saw.

A bottle of vodka, the same brand they chugged after what was now referred to as “Oliver’s fuck up,” was the first item she saw. Attached to the bottle was a neon sticky note, the words “just in case” written with a black Sharpie. Even though she was pretty sure Oliver had grown enough to get his head out of his ass and be a safe bet, Felicity should have known Sara would have a contingency plan.

The set of shot glasses each featured a police box adorned with fez and bow tie. Sara thought about getting a matching set with the Stark coat of arms, but decided to get something new for Felicity. A sticky note stated that the shot glasses were to be used “if he ever acts like a douchenozzle,” making clear the intended purpose for the gift.

Finally, a mint condition record album filled the bottom of the box. Gloria Gaynor, in all her disco glory, looked fiercely at the viewer, declaring that she wouldn’t be taking shit from anybody. Groovy words confirmed that the album contained Gaynor’s hit “I Will Survive,” and even though she didn’t have a record player, Felicity knew the album would end up on her wall as a loved, nostalgic piece of art.

The message on the sticky note, written in bold, black letters, made a promise to Felicity that Sara would always be there. It was written in a code only the two women would understand, but solidified the bond created on a night of constant dancing, singing and drinking.

“The offer of a threesome still stands. Nyssa says it’s okay.”


End file.
